Kat Among The Pigeons

by Lazette Gifford

  The work on my arm took too long, but I didn't dare rush. I fixed torn muscles and blood vessels, ligaments and flesh, and the thin skin over everything. Not a perfect fix. I drew a little more and repaired and cleaned my clothing. I could head back to Estes Park, hopefully ahead of the others.

  Damn. I'd have to make certain my friends reached safety, too. With this storm, even the best trained hikers could find themselves in trouble. I had saved them from the gargoyle; I wouldn't let them die in the snow.

  I stayed kneeling in the nearly four inches of snow and tested out the area, finding the park rangers. They had located the kill site, but they wouldn't continue searching for some crazed animal in this weather. Later they could come back. No matter. The Gargoyle was gone -- and as long as nothing else came through.

  If the army came through, what the rangers saw would be the last thing I needed to worry about.

  I gently, gently, oh so carefully, got them back down to the trail and to their dirt bikes. They might have been able reach safety on their own, but I couldn't trust such a thing to happen today. I gave them what safety I could in a wave of magic.

  I crawled forward about a yard to a small white mound. I gently brushed the snow from the hawk's dead body and picked her up from the ground.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "If I hadn't --"

  I stopped the words. She couldn't hear them anyway. And I didn't know what I wanted to say. I wished I had done many things differently, but I'm not sure accepting her gift to get me here faster had been one of them. I had taken on the gargoyle, maybe before he was ready for me.

  I might have gotten here in time and pushed the gargoyle through without her help, but maybe I belittled her memory to think so. She had willingly joined in the fight, and from the cry she gave to me at the end, I know she realized the danger when she tried to attack the rider.

  Tears froze on my cheeks. Too many who came to me had died in the last couple days. I feared to go back to the house and find there might be worse waiting for me there.

  But I was a border guard. Damn The Edge and whatever worked on the other side, trying to come through. I wanted all the trouble to go away and things to return to normal. My wishes wouldn't bring back the cats or the hawk, though.

  I glanced back and saw the little sparkle of light through the falling snow, so deceptively pretty. I couldn't close The Edge down and I couldn't stop anything happening on the other side.

  I had to go back and get help.

  I stumbled to my feet and began making my way towards the trail, moving a little faster with each step. I carried my dead companion in one hand, and beside the lake I made a little cairn for her, and wished her soft winds and cloudless skies where she had gone.

  The rangers had gotten away well ahead of me, pushing the bikes through the snow, anxious to get back to the lower elevations. I could sometimes hear the distant sound of their laughter, which seemed a strange, alien sound.

  They would be going home. I needed to do the same.

  I followed the path, about a half mile behind my friends. I even purposely sent a little more power into the storm, pulling the snow and winds along with me, and encouraging them not only to hurry more, but also to shut off access to most of the park for a day or two. Better to close this area rather than to risk endangering people if something else came through The Edge.

  And I kept glancing over my shoulder, expecting an army of those riders to be following after me. The fear made me almost ill. I had no idea how to stop them. I had fought one-on-one with a single rider and barely survived.

  He had been more solid than the riders I had seen on the drive with David. I tried to call back the image beyond The Edge -- an army on horseback, perhaps a banner waving in the wind . . . but nothing came clearly. I had never seen anything like them on the other side, though. I had an odd feeling they belonged to this world, as though a human army had gotten lost and ended up in fae. Such things had happened in the past, before technology and when The Edge had spread wider than now. I thought I should do some study at the library tonight if I got the chance. If I could learn more about them and they belonged to this world, I would gain more power over them.

  Knowledge is power is really a fae saying.

  The rangers safely reached the Bear Lake parking lot and their trucks where they loaded the dirt bikes. I stood by the sign, clothed in the white of snow, and watched as they piled into the vehicles and began the laborious work of heading down the mountain in the storm. I laid a little more magic into their vehicles, and made certain they would get back down without any trouble.

  Oh how I wanted to climb into one of those nice warm trucks with them. I had a long, long ways to go back to my hidden car. As they drove away, I stood there in the snow, listening to the silence of a winter storm, where only the wind moved the trees. The moment would have been exquisite at another time.

  I started to step out from the little shelter provided by the sign when I heard something high up above me -- the flap of huge wings. I stared upward, terrified as I saw the barest outline of something gigantic, gliding through the snow.

  Gods don't let there be a dragon on this side! Dragons rarely showed themselves, even in fae, and they hadn't been in the human lands for more than a millennium. They were the harbingers of trouble and change, and things I didn't want to consider, besides being inherently dangerous.

  I stared up into the sky and followed the hint of movement in the snow; a slight shadow and then gone.

  "Big wings," I said softly. "Damned big wings."

  I tried to find animals on the way down, but spotted only a couple rabbits and the single fox. They scattered at the sight of me. Most animals can sense a fae, and even if we can't directly communicate, they aren't afraid of us. Watching them run away bothered me.

  I found no birds at all. I wanted them back because I suddenly realized how much I needed their eyes to watch things up here, though from the power of this storm there wouldn't be much flying today anyway.

  I also needed to make certain the rangers backed my story later. I reached out and found them in their cars and planted a little thought: I had been somewhere in the park, trying to reach Cago. Hell, if I could, I would have really called Cago in. I would have called everyone in.

  By the time I reached my car the snow, even down at this level, had reached nearly six inches on the ground. I sat in the car for a moment, letting the heater kick in and defrost both the window and me. I trembled, and this time I couldn't decide if that came from the cold, the wounds, or the natural cold fae suffer after the use of so much magic. Or perhaps I felt just plain fear.

  Maybe all those problems melded together because I had never trembled so badly in my life. I made my hands hold tight to the steering wheel to keep them from shaking, and I inched out of my hidden spot and down the dirt path to the main road. I found some tracks there already, and I levered the car into those ruts and headed for home.

  But a whisper of magic swept past me, and I had the feeling the big wings were not far away. I didn't want any dragons involved in this trouble.

  But if one were here, the car wouldn't be much more than a plaything. A dragon could scoop the vehicle up and carry me off without a problem. I rolled down the window and watched the sky, almost shouting a dare to whatever might be up there. Yeah, come and get me. I don't care anymore!

  But I did care, if not for myself, at least for all my friends. I pulled my head back in, twisted the steering wheel until I found the ruts, and forced the car forward and finally up the road to home.

  I had never been so happy to see my place before. I sat in the car for a moment, made certain my clothing didn't show any tears or blood, and got out. David's car sat next to mine. I felt better thinking about him.

  I hurried up to the house and stopped on the porch long enough to brush the snow off of me before I hurried in. Aletta and David sat up on the loft, which was, after all, a nice place watch the snow. I had rather wished to be there with David rather tha
n Aletta. I sighed when I saw her come down the steps in slinky ski clothing that had never seen the slopes, and fitting every curve perfectly.

  David followed her, frowning. I felt guilty about sticking him with her. I wanted to make this up to him. He even moved with an angry, heavy step I'd never seen before.

  "About time you got back," he said, frowning at me as well.

  Aletta put a hand on his arm. He sighed and nodded, as though she had reminded him of something.

  I didn't like it.

  "Did the work go well?" Aletta said with a bright smile when she looked back to me. "Did you get a hold of Cago?"

  "No, I didn't." The words sounded short and bad tempered, but I felt as though I had intruded where I shouldn't be.

  "Ah, too bad," she said with a wave of her hand.

  "Well, since we can't go out in this weather, Aletta and I are going back to the hotel," David said as he walked past me, limping a little.

  The words felt like physical a blow. I couldn't breathe for a moment, and I feared I would cry. He headed to the door with Aletta. I lifted a hand, to feel out -- well, to see what spell Aletta had put on him.

  But she hadn't. I felt a wash of magic over him, and something repulsed me --

  Oh hell. I had done this myself! This had to be the spell I had made to get him to leave. I wasn't used to such delicate magic, and obviously I had pushed a little too hard, and shoved him right into my cousin's willing arms. He had moved over to a new path and I had pointed him there.

  I knew the situation shouldn't upset me. In the scheme of things -- hell, I had to get him away from me so I could do my work anyway. With him around, I couldn't even talk to Cato or feel out the magic, or try to reach home.

  But it still hurt. Aletta knew how I felt about David and she had done this on purpose.

  There are some things you don't forgive. I think she saw that truth in my face as she went over to grab her jacket from the dining room chair. Shakespeare flapped his wings and made a clicking noise at her with his beak, as though he had every intention of biting her. She leaped aside with a yelp.

  Good bird, I thought.

  "I don't know why you keep that evil thing," she said, glaring back at the bird. I almost expected her to cast some spell, but she didn't. Instead she fought with her jacket until David came over and helped her.

  And Shakespeare snapped at him too. I remembered the first day they met, and how much the bird had liked him. Now he acted as though David was no better than Aletta.

  "There are some things we need to talk about later, Aletta," I said, trying to keep my voice even. If I hadn't thought I needed her, I would have pushed her out the door, sealed the ward and never let her near me again.

  "Sure, whatever," she said, and put her arm in David's. I could see the glee in her face and how close she came to laughing -- but what she saw in my face drained the humor from her. "Call me later, if you can get through."

  "I will," I said, and the promise in those words made her worry.

  I didn't know exactly what she had done. There could be lies, of course -- but I didn't think David would be the kind who would fall so easily for her. I sensed no glamour, and the magic around David felt like my spell.

  I should have had him stay at the cafe. I should have enspelled him into thinking we would meet later. I thought of a half dozen things I could have done rather than putting him with Aletta.

  Maybe I shouldn't have been blaming her. Maybe she happened along at the right time and slipped into the void where my spell pushed him away.

  I'm a fool. I know it.

  Shakespeare still flapped about, more unsettled than usual. I went over to him and petted his head. He rubbed up against me and glanced into my face.

  "And a proud sprit which hath striven, triumphantly with human kind," he barely whispered

  "What did he say?" David asked sounding oddly strident.

  "Nothing important. More of his poetry."

  David made a dismissive noise as he hurried to the door, obviously ready to leave. I felt my breath catch as a pain settled in my chest. I didn't deserve this. I didn't --

  Shakespeare reached over and bit my finger. Not as hard as before, but with enough force to draw my attention. David had stopped and stared out the big window. I could see the hint of his reflection, and how for a moment, something changed in his face.

  "Don't trust me," he said, almost as softly as Shakespeare.

  "What?" I stepped closer, testing for magic again. I found nothing but the same repulsion spell. What --

  Aletta came and took his arm. He smiled at her. "Don't trust me on the walkway. I'm apt to pull you down, love."

  I thought my heart would break. Aletta laughed, and they went out the door. David hadn't even remembered to pick up his camera equipment on the way out.

  And damned if I would let the pack sit there and remind me of how miserable I felt. I threw the door open to find them starting down the steps from the porch. They both almost slipped.

  "You forgot your camera equipment, David."

  He glanced back; his eyes narrowed and he gave a quick nod to Aletta. She came back to the door.

  "Are you going to let me get his stuff or not?" she asked.

  I stepped aside. The weight obviously surprised her as she slung the pack over her shoulder, banging it against the door. I thought of all the nice equipment and how much care David took of the cameras, but he had kept heading toward the car and didn't even seem to care.

  She followed and tossed the pack into the back seat and opened the driver's side. He took the other seat. In a moment they pulled away, lost in the fall of snow. I could barely hear the car heading down the hill.

  "Son of a bitch!" I stepped back and threw the door closed so hard the windows shook. I stood there, panting as though I had run a long race, and felt the tears on my face. "I did this myself. I drove him away with my damned spell. But Aletta -- Aletta stepped in on purpose!"

  Cato made a careful appearance, with his tail down and his ears slightly back.

  "They're gone, right?" he asked softly.

  "Yeah. Gone. What went on?"

  "Nothing. David kept pacing back and forth, back and forth. The bird got upset every time Aletta would come near him so they went up to the loft and sat down and talked.

  "About what?"

  "I don't know. They stayed quiet. Aletta chased me out the front door. I came back in my cat door, but I didn't let her know. I went to sleep back in the closet."

  "Aletta would know I could talk to you, so she probably didn't want you to tell me anything afterwards. How did David act? Aside from the pacing?"

  "I thought he'd protest when Aletta chased me out, but he didn't," Cato admitted. "I really thought he liked me. I thought he liked you."

  "Well, I pretty much screwed that up." I threw myself down in my chair. He leapt up on the arm and rubbed his head against my shoulder, trying to be nice. I didn't wince, even though the shoulder still hurt. "I was trying to get him to leave for a while -- not long. Just while I got this mess cleaned up. And we have a true mess, Cato. A bad one. I was going to ask Aletta to help me --"

  "You must be desperate."

  "Yes. I am. I need back up. But now . . . now I feel as though I can't trust her. I have to be able to trust the person I work with. Why did she do this? David isn't even her type!"

  "I could bite her on the nose. Nothing looks good with a swollen nose."

  He made me laugh a little. I reached up and rubbed his ears, and Cato jumped into my lap and settled there with happy pussyfoots. A happy cat always helps me to relax, and having him here meant a great deal today.

  I glanced at Shakespeare.

  "Thine image and a name -- a name! Two separate -- yet most intimate things."

  I sighed. This was my world, with a cat as my best friend and a crazed bird as my only other companion. I leaned back in the chair and forced myself to relax. I accepted I had lost David. Maybe, after I got through the rest of this me
ss, I could somehow work things out, but I had far more important worries than my own romantic future.

  "I think there might be dragons," I said softly, as though I didn't even want to admit such a thing aloud.

  "Like you think dragons might really exist, right?" Cato said, his head coming up, his large eyes blinking. "Not like "I think there might be dragons here on this side of The Edge." Because if there are dragons out there, I'm never leaving the house again."

  "I'll have some cases of food delivered for you."

  "Oh." He lowered his head and tried to bury it in the crook of my arm. "I don't want to know."

  I wished I could bury my head as well and hope everything went away. Instead, I spent a fruitless hour trying to reach someone at home. Twice I could even see my father -- a relief, at least, in a day where everything else had gone wrong. However, I couldn't contact him, and he didn't even glance my way.

  I wondered if the rest of the fae still had troubles elsewhere, though I didn't believe anyone could have trouble worse than mine.

  I got back up, letting Cato have the warm spot on the chair, and went to the kitchen to find something to eat. My shoulder ached and my head pounded, and every time I thought about Aletta and David the headache tripled. If I'd had the ability to spell cast and erase them both from my memory, I would have. I needed clear thoughts.

  Over a bowl of soup, I watched the snow finally slow and stop, and even began to melt as the clouds parted and sunlight spread over the world.

  "I'm going to go talk to the pigeons," I said. "They might have heard something. I'm going to ward the house and this time I'm not giving any kind of key to Aletta."

  "Good," Cato said. His nose twitched. "Vegetable beef?"

  I laughed and poured the remainder into his bowl. I got some good bird food out for Shakespeare, who at least didn't try to bite me this time. I couldn't say I blamed him for being upset about Aletta and David.

  I left the house, sloshing through the wet snow. Any other time I would have loved this weather. Late spring storms are wonderful, if for no other reason than you know the snow isn't going to last for long.